


Storm

by A_Boy_Named_Mike



Series: MadaTobi Week [24]
Category: Naruto, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 14:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Boy_Named_Mike/pseuds/A_Boy_Named_Mike
Summary: Prompt:Time or dimension travel(fromMadaTobi Week 2019).





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _Time or dimension travel_ (from **[MadaTobi Week 2019](https://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/post/182718063236/madatobi-week-2019)**).

There is snow upon the sand.

He lies in it, limbs spread, cold seeping through the warmth of his clothes, nestling itself within his skin.

Madara stares at the dark gray sky and thinks this world strange. Watches his breaths before him, clouds of mist, forming, dissipating. Time moves so quickly in this world. He is always trying to catch up to it. Even lying here, upon the snow-covered beach, he feels breathless.

He turns his gaze from the sky. Looks to his left, and Tobirama is there, standing beside him, staring at the blood red ocean.

Tobirama looks so tall, larger than life. Has always looked liked this, straight-backed and sharp-gazed, even through the torments of the Hunt.

He stands like a king, a god, a monster. Angelic blood within his veins, and demonic also. Madara stares at the sleeves of Tobirama's jacket and thinks about the marks beneath. Runes and scars, intertwined. His soul, split in two.

And Tobirama looks at him. His eyes are bright things in this gray world.

Madara swallows.

Sometimes, looking at Tobirama is too much. He returns his gaze skyward. It is an ominous sight. The sky seems angry, portentous. Like the storm ever raging within his heart.

Madara shuts his eyes. Feels them burn, and he shuts them tighter still. War is coming. The threat of it is ever present, hanging above him like a Damoclean sword. Madara knows he is losing Faerie. Fears he would lose Tobirama, and knows that that would break him. He could withstand losing his homeland, but without Tobirama, he would have nothing, _be_ nothing.

There is a touch upon his face. Madara feels the caress of gloved fingers, tender against his cheek. He opens his eyes.

Tobirama, over him, blanketing Madara's body with his own. The line of his mouth is grim. His face is a mask of concern, but his eyes — how they blaze. There is a wildness within them. Bright. Resolute. The promise of protection.

Madara reaches for him. For warmth. For safety. His arms come to wrap themselves around Tobirama, hands upon his broad back, desperately clinging.

And Tobirama kisses him.

There is so much want in that kiss. Tobirama's touch is a ravenous thing. Like a predator, a Hunter, he takes.

Madara's mouth parts willingly, lets Tobirama thieve him of his breath, his life, his everything. To Tobirama, he surrenders. It comes naturally, this giving.

Tobirama kisses him and Madara feels his blood thaw. Feels fear uncoil its grip around his heart. Feels the storm inside him still.


End file.
